


a safe place to hide us away.

by redhoods



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, and not just a fluffy kitten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 10:04:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12932940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhoods/pseuds/redhoods
Summary: Barry’s still quiet though and when Len looks over, he’s hunched over in his chair, still intently focused on his phone screen. Len settles in the chair next to him, eyebrow lifting even higher when Barry hunches in even further, like he’s protecting himself or something.





	a safe place to hide us away.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ImaKaraTabiHe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImaKaraTabiHe/gifts).



> This was written for tabihe for the [coldfash winter exchange](https://coldflashweek2016.tumblr.com/). The prompt for this was Barry wanting to keep a stray cat and I just went straight for the fluffiest domestic nonsense I could and hoped for the best. I hope you like it, tabihe, and I hope it's as fluffy as you wanted!!!!!!!!!!
> 
>  
> 
> a) i have never written anything the flash/legends of tomorrow before. at least, not that i plan on ever posting. that being said, i'm pretty proud of how this came out.  
> b) timelines are confusing and thus subject to being my bitch and getting bent to whatever whims and fancies i happen to have.  
> c) i'm very bad at titles. this one came from the tide by niall horan.

There’s no warning for it. 

Nothing particularly unusual about his day that has Len on any sort of alert, aside from his standard hyperawareness, as he slides his key into the lock. It’s fairly quiet in the apartment, even, when he drops his keys into the bowl by the door. Both Barry’s and Mick’s are also in the bowl, which should’ve been the first sign that something was amiss. Len doesn’t heed the warning though.

(Barry’s keys never actually made it into the bowl and Mick had a habit of shoving his right back into his pocket once he’d gotten the door unlocked.)

The scene that greets him isn’t unusual either. Mick’s at the stove cooking, filling the whole apartment with a particularly heavenly aroma, and Barry’s at the table scrolling through something on his phone, at normal speed even.

He passes Barry, brushing a hand across his shoulders and not really noticing the way that Barry jumps in the seat as he sidles up next to Mick to see what he’s cooking.

When Len sees what’s on the stove, his concern is only minorly peaked. It’s the makings of Mick’s red sauce, water boiling for pasta, and what looks like the beginning stages for the garlic butter he covers toast in. Mick’s spaghetti with garlic bread is in Len’s top ten of favorite meals and the last time Mick had gone all out for it, he’d been trying to broach the subject of bringing Barry into their relationship.

“Good day at work, boss?” Mick’s the one that finally breaks the silence that had been settled over the kitchen, but doesn’t even give Len the chance to respond before he’s pressing a spoonful of sauce into Len’s mouth.

It’s damn good, like it always is, and Len savors it before he swallows to respond, “The usual,” one of his eyebrows lifts at Mick, who only nods and turns back to his sauce.

Barry’s still quiet though and when Len looks over, he’s hunched over in his chair, still intently focused on his phone screen. Len settles in the chair next to him, eyebrow lifting even higher when Barry hunches in even further, like he’s protecting himself or something.

“How about you, Barry, good day at work?” Len asks, eyebrows smoothing out as he cocks his head, observing. He can feel Mick looking at them, like he’s checking on them even though they’re only a few short strides from where he’s situated at the stove. His curiosity skyrockets.

When he glances up, Barry’s gaze darts between him and Mick, before settling on him once more, “Usual,” he says slowly, deliberately and Mick snorts. Barry shoots him a glare, even though Mick is focused on slicing a loaf of bread into even slabs.

Len purses his lips and nods, “So nothing exciting? Out of the ordinary?”

He hadn’t thought it was possible, but Barry somehow looks even shiftier. (Len is honestly starting to wonder how all of Central City doesn’t know he’s the Flash, when Barry can’t seem to keep a secret to save his life.) Barry persists though, shaking his head. “Nope,” he pops the ‘p’ as he lays his phone screen down on the table. Len’s tempted to go for it, even though he knows he doesn’t stand a chance of getting a hand on it if Barry doesn’t want him to.

Something happens that Len misses or doesn’t see or isn’t looking for though, because Barry jerks suddenly, finally straightening out of the hunch he’s been in. That’s when Len notices it, the small lump in Barry’s hoodie. to the left side of Barry’s zipper against his heart. The small lump that is now moving.

“Barry, darling, what is under your hoodie?”

Mick has joined them at that point, Len can feel him hovering just over his shoulder.

They both watch as Barry reaches into his hoodie and produces a small ball of... fluff. Fur? That’s all Len sees, until the ball moves, stretching out into what has got to be the smallest kitten Len has seen in his life. Not that he’s seen many kittens, but the point stands. The thing is tiny, white and black from what he can tell, and turns to stare at him with huge green eyes, before it lets out a little mew.

Barry cradles the kitten protectively to his chest, eying Len in a way that suggests he’s certainly ready to fight over the pitiful thing. “I found her at a crime scene,” he says then, his chest puffing out like he’s preparing himself to defend his decision to bring the kitten home.

“Them,” Mick interjects and Len doesn’t turn, but he hears Mick return to the stove, “We don’t know if they’re a boy or girl yet.”

It dawns on Len then that Mick had already known, been made aware of the kitten, and has already accepted the thing. They were both expecting him to be the hold out.

He isn’t sure how to deal with that, so he simply sits stare, staring at the tiny creature as it noses at Barry’s neck and then bumps under his chin, like it’s trying to get more attention. Barry is still staring at him though, waiting for his response, and Len counts to ten, slow as he can manage, in his head, just to see Barry squirm a little.

“You’re going to need supplies.”

Something clatters at the stove and Len doesn’t look to see what it is, too busy watching Barry’s reaction, the way he opens his mouth as if to argue, before Len’s words sink in and his mouth closes slowly.

Len arches an eyebrow at him, “You’re an adult, I’m sure you know the responsibilities associated with taking care of a pet,” Barry starts nodding furiously at this point, “Just know that I will never, never, clean a litter box.”

Barry’s face splits into a grin and, help him, Len likes it, likes that he put it there. “That’s more than fair, I will make sure the litter box is always clean,” he’s so earnest about it too that Len wants to snicker, but doesn’t. “I found a vet that will give her - sorry, them - a check up and figure out if they need shots and all that.”

The oven opens and closes and then Mick joins them at the table, sitting across from them, “He’s been researching nonstop on his phone since he got home. Little thing has stayed right there curled up against his chest.” There’s an open fondness on his face as he observes Barry that makes Len want to poke fun at him, but he has a feeling that the same look is also on his face often enough.

The kitten mews again and Barry sets it - them - on the table. Mick reaches out, lets them sniff his fingers, before the kitten just steps right into Mick’s palm. Len watches, maybe a bit incredulously, as Mick brings the kitten to his face and they just start rubbing their cheeks together.

“They’re purring,” Barry says quietly, almost stunned, and he’s right. Len can hear it. A pitiful quiet sort of rumble emanating from the kitten’s chest.

Barry turns suddenly to him and neither the kitten nor Mick react, “Thank you.”

Len blinks at him.

Exasperation is a look that Len is familiar with receiving, especially from Barry, even if this time it does make him rankle just a bit. Barry was just thanking him, wasn’t he? 

Barry moves, normal human speed, reaching for Len. He appreciates it, does so more each time Barry is sure to telegraph his movements, to make sure Len can see him coming, can deflect if he doesn’t want to be touched in the moment. He doesn’t move away though, simply angles himself towards Barry and ends up with a lapful of speedster.

“Well, hello, scarlet,” he drags the word out, just because of the way Barry ducks his head or the way color climbs up the back of his neck, but Barry’s grinning, eyes crinkled.

“Hi,” is Barry’s response, like somehow he’s suddenly shy, but it doesn’t last long and Len lets himself be dragged into a very thorough kiss.

Len’s the first one to pull back, licking his lips, and only slightly disappointed when Barry slides back to his own chair. It’s okay though because Barry’s lips are kiss swollen and red and Mick is watching them both intently. The kitten is curled up on his shoulder, tucked against his neck.

Barry actually coos at the picture the two of them make and Len can’t really deny it either. There’s something about the bulk of Mick with a tiny ball of fur curled protectively against him that seems fitting.

“One of you needs to stir the sauce and get the pasta into it,” Mick tells them, before he stands, moving so gingerly as he walks to the couch and settles down onto it.

Len doesn’t move to get up, instead scoops up Barry’s phone and punches in the password to check out what research Barry’s accomplished. Barry does though and heads to the stove, because they both knew Mick had been talking to him. Len was technically not supposed to go near the stove to start with.

“Have you thought of a name?” Len asks, after scrolling through a google search about kittens’ favorite toys.

Barry hums and doesn’t respond, but Len can hear him draining the pasta so he continues scrolling and ends up adding three things to Barry’s Amazon cart, before Barry settles back next to him, “I was thinking Snowflake.”

Mick laughs so hard he wakes the kitten up and Len adds four more toys to the cart.


End file.
